


don't you let it go, i'm wonderstruck

by ladystark



Category: The Social Network (2010)
Genre: Enchanted AU, M/M, amy ritter is there but only kinda (you'll see), in which cameron gets erased from existence for plot reasons, maybe ooc just because of the au but accept that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-19 16:10:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18973426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladystark/pseuds/ladystark
Summary: In which Mark is a divorce lawyer, Eduardo is a would be prince from another world, Dustin gets a sword, Divya can turn into a dragon, Tyler is in charge of three poison apples, and Sean is a chipmunk.Or, the Enchanted AU.





	don't you let it go, i'm wonderstruck

**Author's Note:**

> if you found this because you think it's fun to read the fic people have written about you, please close the tab and go pay your taxes. everyone else, feel free to read ahead.

Mark really doesn’t like most of his clients.

He doesn’t have to like them, no matter what his co-worker Sy says, because he was going to do his job well regardless of how he felt about them. And they rarely liked him back, because they were usually coming to him in one of the most difficult moments of their lives. A stage when they didn’t want to like anyone, because nobody was trustworthy or worth the effort. Mark didn’t become a lawyer so he could be liked by his clients, he did it so he could make money off his clients.

He doesn’t like most of them, but he had liked Christy. She’d be intense from the beginning, a little too brutally honest and slightly scary, like there was something simmering under the surface. But she hadn’t been weepy or outwardly aggressive, and the fact she never cried or screamed at him during any of their sessions was were bonuses in his book. There was no bullshit with Christy, and Mark _liked_ that about her. Most of his clients bullshitted to make themselves seem better or their partner seem worse, and he didn’t get any of that with her. So the more time they spent together the more he began to tolerate her more than he did most others.

Right now, though, he wants nothing to do with her.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting here, listening to Christy and her (soon to be ex) wife Alice argue over a scarf. Apparently it’s nice and expensive and made by some guy called Hermès, and Christy hates scarves and is clearly only fighting for it to upset Alice. Mark doesn’t really get the fascination or debate, but he’s seen clients argue over more frivolous items. Usually, it wouldn’t be much of a nuisance (or at least his desire to be great at his job overrides his annoyance,) but he has to pick Amy up soon, and it’s an important night.

As if on cue, Marilyn pops her head in, catching Mark’s eye, “It’s time.”

Mark glances at Christy, but she doesn’t seem like she’s going to give up the fight anytime soon. He turns to Sy, who just waves him away.

“I’ve got this,” he says, “I’ll see you tomorrow. 9:00?”

Mark gives Sy a stiff nod, even though he doesn’t totally trust him to deal with this on his own. He considers saying goodbye to Christy and saying he’ll see her tomorrow, but then Alice yells something about _“I’ve never even seen you wear a scarf!”_ and decides she probably won’t stop listen to him anyway.

He grabs his stuff and slips out, where Marilyn is waiting in the hallway.

“You deal with this stuff everyday, and you’re still thinking about proposing?” she asks, walking down the hallway towards the elevator with him. Mark had hated Marilyn’s nosiness at first, and would give her short one word answers whenever she asked him anything. But she’s worked for him for years now, and is probably the only person Mark can properly talk to outside of Chris. He doesn’t appreciate her nosiness, but it doesn’t bother him the way it used to. She’s probably the closest thing Mark has to a friend, which is a sad thing to consider, but Mark doesn’t have a lot of time or tolerance for other people. He has to spend a lot of time with and tolerate Marilyn, so she’s the best option he’s got.

“That’s different. Chris and I are more practical than that,” he replies, ignoring Marilyn’s snort. “If he says yes, I’ll ask him to sign a prenup just to be safe.”

“Because that’s what _everyone_ wants to hear: ‘will you marry me, but only if you sign a prenuptial agreement?’” Marilyn smirks, and Mark just rolls his eyes.

“He’ll understand.”

Marilyn shrugs. “I’m _sure_. Have you told Amy yet?”

“I’ll do it tonight,” he says. He’s got some reservations about breaking the news to his daughter, but Amy’s a reasonable kid, and he’s about 60% sure that she likes Chris. It’ll be fine.

Marilyn seems less convinced, giving Mark a half-hearted wave as he steps into the elevator, “I just hope you’ve gotten her something to soften the blow.”

* * *

Mark _had_ gotten her a gift, but Amy seems less than impressed with it.

“ _Coding for Kids_?” she asks, turning the book over in her hands, as if she expects it to magically turn into the fairytale collection she asked for.

“It seems fun,” Mark defends, but his daughter doesn’t seem to think so, “Or at least interesting.”

“Maybe for you,” she says, quiet enough that he thinks he wasn’t mean to hear it, but she’s not wrong.

Mark had liked programming once, before he was a lawyer and before he became a father, back when he had time for it. His favourite thing to do in college was to code in his spare time, creating websites that nobody else would ever see. He considered trying to make something of it, but he didn’t have the resources or support to build something incredible, and so he’d stuck with his law degree, and coding had remained a hobby. And then there hadn’t been time for anything fun, especially after Erica left, but maybe he can get Amy into it, let her create entire worlds with just her fingers.

“Just give it a go, alright?” he tells her, nudging her shoulder. Amy gives him a halfhearted nod, but still won’t meet his eyes.

Fine. So she doesn’t love the book, but at least it’s distracted her enough that he can bring up the real issue without much of a drama. Hopefully.

“Chris wants to take you to school tomorrow,” he says, switching the subject, “He says he wants to have some grown-up bonding time with you. That should be fun, right?”

“I’m not a grown up,” Amy says, still frowning down at the book cover. Mark sighs just as she flips it open, deciding to deal with it and just tell her anyway.

“Amelia,” he begins, and she finally looks up. He only calls her that when he’s being serious or he’s upset with her. “I’m going to ask Chris to marry me.”

Amy frowns, looking away again. “You know, if you bought the fairytale book I wanted, I could show you how evil stepparents are.”

“Do fairytales have wicked stepfathers?” he asks, because he’d been under the impression that he could dodge this hurdle by dating a man. And Chris is nice and kind of looks like a fairytale hero with his blonde hair and blue eyes, or at least his mother said as such when they met.

Amy doesn’t say anything, just turns to another page in the book.

“Come on,” he continues, because he knows he can’t go through with this if she doesn’t support him, “You like Chris. You know he’s not evil.”

The cab has stopped at a red light now, and Amy shifts away from him to look out the window at the rainy street. Mark runs through a list of possible arguments in his head, all the reasons Amy _should_ like Chris, and be okay with Mark proposing. He thinks he has an idea of what will work, when Amy suddenly unclips her seatbelt, throws open the cab door, and runs out into the night.

“ _Amelia!_ ” he yells, quickly tugging off his own seatbelt and running after her, thankful for the lack of cars on the road. His daughter hasn’t gone far, thankfully, and has come to a halt on the pavement by the time Mark’s halfway across the road. She’s staring up at something, but Mark is too focused on getting to her that he doesn’t bother to see what it might be.

“Amelia,” he repeats, crouching down and trying to turn her so she’ll face him, “Don’t ever do that again.” 

“Dad, _look!”_ She whines, ignoring him and twisting out of his grasp.

Mark follows her gaze and spots a large pink castle painted on a billboard, advertising the _Palace Casino._ But he knows it’s not that that caught his daughter’s attention. It’s the tall, dark-haired man in a huge wedding dress knocking on the door of the painted castle.

“It’s a prince,” Amy whispers to him, and Mark straightens up. Mark’s half inclined to leave the guy up there, but he doesn’t want to risk hearing about someone falling to their deaths tomorrow, and he doubts Amy will come back to the cab until she finds out who the man is.

“Hey!” Mark yells out, “Are you okay?”

The person spins around, and the combination of the weather and the dress must make them slip, because all of a sudden, they’re falling off the ledge with nothing more than a yelp.

Mark’s well aware of his lack of physical ability. He’s never tried to pretend he’s stronger than he actually is, and has never tested his strength past his limits. So it’s only on instinct that he holds his arms out to catch the stranger, and it goes about as well as he expected.

Both of them stumble back, Mark hitting the pavement with a thud, the weird guy on top of him. He’s all _legs_ underneath his dress _,_ and Mark has to untangle himself before they can both get up. Despite the rain and the fact he nearly fell to his almost certain death, the guy offers him a smile.

“Oh, thank you, that was awfully brave of you,” he says, and he’s got the biggest and brightest eyes Mark’s ever seen. “It’s nice to see someone show some kindness. Everyone else has been so… _rude_ in this place, and all I wanted to know was where the palace was, but they were all so unhelpful. And this was all after that mean old man sent me to this strange world, and now the people inside the palace won’t let me in! So, as you can see, I’ve had a very rough day.”

Mark blinks at him, wondering what appropriate response he can give to that. He’s been trying to teach Amy the concept of _if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all,_ which means he has to be on his best behaviour. And he currently has nothing nice to say at all.

He’s saved by Amy herself, who steps forward a little to tug at the man’s skirt. He turns away from Mark, and smiles down at her instead.

“Why were you looking for the palace? Are you a prince?” she asks, and Mark has to bite his tongue from pointing out how impossible that is.

“No, not yet. I’m meant to marry one though, so I will be soon,” the man replies, and despite his best efforts, Mark lets out a snort. Of course someone knocking on a billboard in the middle of a thunderstorm would think that they’re going to marry a prince.

Neither Amy or the man seem to notice his disdain, though.

“That’s so _cool._ I always wanted to marry a prince,” Amy says, and the man looks like he’s about to say something in response, when Mark realises his daughter shouldn’t be outside in this weather, and the cab isn’t going to wait forever.

“Amy,” he tells her, “Come on. Let’s go home.”

“Can the prince come with us?” She asks.

Mark looks at the guy, with his dark hair and wide eyes and soaking white dress and sighs. He looks confused and startled, and Mark has doubts about him figuring out where to go and what to do in this weather. Besides, he knows how stubborn his daughter is, and Amy would probably stay out here all night just to keep ‘the prince’ company. So he sighs and nods.

“Fine. We can take him home so he can dry off and call someone,” he says, and Amy takes his hand with a cheer. As he leads her back to the warmth of the cab, he can hear the guy behind them going on about how lovely they are and how thankful he is, and Mark braces himself for a long trip.

* * *

 By the time they get back to the apartment, Mark has started to regret offering that ride.

The man, who is apparently named Eduardo, has spent the entire car trip and elevator ride telling Amy exactly what happened to him. Mark had only been half listening, but he’d caught enough to decide that there wasn’t something right about the guy. Talking animals? A prince that saved him from a troll? An mean old man and a magical well? He wasn’t the weirdest person Mark had met in his life, but he was certainly near the top of the list, and not someone he wanted to spend more time with than necessary.

“You can dry off and use the phone,” Mark tells Eduardo, “Just make it quick, as some of us actually have responsibilities and schedules we like to stick to.”

Mark actually has no idea what Eduardo is meant to be doing or where he’s meant to be right now, but someone banging on billboards and telling stories about magical wells doesn’t seem particularly responsible to him.

Eduardo doesn’t seem to notice the sly dig, however, just smiles in gratitude.

“And you need to go to bed,” he tells Amy, giving her a gentle nudge towards her bedroom before heading into his office to dump his work stuff.

He’s scanning over some paperwork about his current case when there’s a knock on the door, and he looks up to see Amy standing in the doorway, not looking any closer to being ready for bed than she did ten minutes ago.

“Can he stay here?” she asks, and it takes him a moment to register that she’s talking about Eduardo.

“No,” Mark tells her, “We are not having a strange man stay in our apartment overnight.”

“But dad,” Amy whines, stepping inside his office, and playing with some of the books on his shelf, “He’s a prince! We can’t leave him alone. What if the mean old man gets him again?”

Mark sighs, walking over to her and leading her back towards the door. “He’s not a prince. He’s a very confused man and he’ll have friends he can call.”

Amy grumbles something indistinguishable in French, and Mark has to wonder if those lessons he’s paying for are teaching her a few insults.

“Go get ready for bed, and I’ll call him a cab.”

He can hear Amy stomping into her room and slamming the door with a little more force than Mark thinks is necessary, and he pinches the bridge of his nose.

_What a shitty night,_ he thinks, closing his eyes and leaning against the doorway for a minute. He just wanted to get Amy’s approval for his proposal and have a nice night in from the rain with his daughter, only for her to run out into the night and collect a ‘prince.’

Mark sighs, beginning to make his way down the hallway to help Eduardo get out of here, only to find Amy standing in the doorway to the living room - still in her uniform, much to his frustration.

“Amelia,” he begins, but she shushes him, nodding towards the couch.

Mark looks over to where she’s staring to find Eduardo fast asleep on the couch, still wearing his ridiculous dress.

“He’s really tired,” Amy whispers, “ _Please_ can we let him stay? He’s really nice, and he’s so far away from home.”

“I can’t let every strange person we meet in New York sleep at our apartment,” Mark whispers back, not wanting to take his eyes off the man.

“He’s not just any stranger. He’s a prince. Or he will be, when he gets married.”

“Amy,” Mark sighs, not wanting to go through this again, “He’s not really a pri-”

“I’ll be _really, really_ good about you marrying Chris if you let him stay. Nothing about evil stepfathers, I promise,” she begs.

Mark looks down at her, considering the offer. Amy certainly knew how to bargain; things would be easier with the engagement if he had her support, and Eduardo seemed harmless, if a little delusional. And it was just one night.

“Fine,” Mark says, and Amy grins up at him, “But I’m getting rid of him first thing tomorrow, when Chris is taking you to school.”

“Maybe his fiancé will have come by then,” Amy sighs dreamily as he leads her to her room, “And then we’ll get invited to the wedding!”

Mark smiles despite himself. He highly doubts that they’ll be attending the wedding, let alone the magical royal one his daughter is dreaming of. But he’ll let her have this fantasy for the night, and in twelve hours, Eduardo and all his talk would be gone from their lives.

* * *

 “Dad, wake up.”

Mark groans into his pillow.

“Dad, come on, you need to see this!”

Amy gives him a particularly rough shove, and Mark opens his eyes, turning to face her. Amy looks far more awake than he feels, even though he usually has to spend about half an hour trying to get her up for school.

“What is it?” He grumbles, sitting up as Amy begins to tug on his arm.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she says, trying to pull him up, “You need to come see.”

Mark suddenly remembers the night before, with Eduardo and his stories of marrying a prince and Amy’s obsession with him. Eduardo, who is probably still asleep on their living room couch, and is the most likely reason behind his daughter’s behaviour.

“Is it to do with Eduardo?” He asks.

Amy ignores the question. “Come _on!_ ”

Mark sighs but allows Amy to tug him out of bed and drag him down the hall. If it’s to do with Eduardo, he’ll deal with him and send him on his way, like he should have done last night.

But Eduardo isn’t in the living room when they finally get there - instead, it’s filled with rats and pigeons and flies and cockroaches. Mark has never been the tidiest person nor has he ever freaked out at the sight of insects, but even he feels disgusted by the scene before them.

“What the fuck?” he demands, glancing down at Amy when he realised what he’s said, but she doesn’t seem to have heard, too focused on watching some rats knock some magazines into a recycling bin with their tails.

“Come on,” he tells her, grabbing two of the pigeons and hurling them out the window, “Let’s get them out of here.”

It’s not a pleasant or easy process. The birds are flying all over the house and some of the rats seem to have gotten themselves stuck in the dishrack (suddenly filled with dishes Mark doesn’t remember cleaning yesterday), but they manage to get all of them out the door or the window in the end.

It’s only when they’re staring around the creature-less living room that Mark realises that he hasn’t seen Eduardo.

“Where is he?” He asks, nodding at the couch. He seems to have had the decency to have tidied up the blankets and pillows, but Mark still wants him _gone._

“I saw him singing and dancing earlier,” Amy says, still looking a little shocked, “The animals were helping him clean.”

Mark doesn’t know where to begin with that, but before he gets the chance, he hears the shower running and voice coming from the bathroom.

“Stay here,” he tells Amy, and the animal related drama must have thrown her off, because she doesn’t even try to argue or follow him as he makes his way up the hallway.

He knocks on the door several times, half expecting it to open and reveal another swarm of rats.

“Come in!” Eduardo calls through the door, and Mark pushes it open, expecting to see him in his ridiculous dress from the night before. Instead, Eduardo is naked, save for the towel that _two pigeons_ are currently tying around his waist.

He rubs at his eyes, thinking he’s half asleep, but the pigeons are still there when he pulls his hands away, and Eduardo is talking to them.

“You’re too kind,” he says, watching as the birds fly out the open window before turning to Mark. “Good morning Mark!”

Mark doesn’t return the sentiment, focusing on keeping his eyes firmly locked on Eduardo’s face. He doesn’t want to think about how good this weird guy looks shirtless, especially not when he’s trying to kick him out of his apartment.

“Right,” he clears his throat, “Eduardo, about this morning-”

“I cleaned!” Eduardo replies with a grin, running a hand through his hair. Now that it’s dry, Mark can’t help but notice how ridiculously poofy it is. “But your home is very messy, so I needed to get my friends to help me out a little.”

“You mean the vermin,” Mark says pointedly, and Eduardo’s face falls a little.

“They’re not my usual friends, that’s true, but they were very kind and helpful,” he replies, because _of course_ he’s the type to defend cockroaches.

“I don’t care if they’re your friends,” he snaps, “I don’t appreciate rats crawling all over my coffee table.”

Eduardo sighs, “I’m sure they didn’t mean any harm.”

Mark usually doesn’t like to quit an argument before he’s won it, but he knows he’s not going to get anywhere with this, and he just wants this man out of his house, so he just shakes his head.

“Sure. Now that all your friends have left, I’d like you to do the same.”

He tilts his head towards the open bathroom door, making his way towards it when Eduardo looks set to follow. Mark was fine to call him a cab and pay for a bus or plane or whatever it was Eduardo needed to get back home, he just wanted him out of his sight.

“Mark,” he hears behind him, “I’m sorry about the animals, I just wanted their help to clea-”

Mark feels Eduardo’s hand graze his shoulder, and he spins around in surprise, only to slip on the bathroom floor. On impulse, he tries to grab Eduardo’s arm for support, but instead they both end up crashing to the floor - Eduardo, once again, on top of him.

“May I ask what’s going on here?” asks a voice. A voice Mark is very familiar with, one belonging to the last person he wants to see right now.

He turns his head and nudges Eduardo off him, staring up at his very pissed off boyfriend.

“Chris?”

“Mark,” he says drily, watching through narrowed eyes as Mark gets to his feet. “Who’s this?”

“This is nobody,” he says, barely sparing Eduardo a glance as the other man gets up (though he notices that the towel is still thankfully tied around his waist.)

“I’m Eduardo,” he interjects anyway, holding out his free hand to Chris, still smiling. “And you must be Chris. It’s lovely to meet you.”

Chris ignores the hand, all his attention and all of his anger focused on Mark, and even Mark knows how bad this looks.

“I can explain,” Mark begins, but Chris lets out a loud laugh before he can get any further.

“I’d _love_ to hear it Mark, but I have to go to work,” he drawls sarcastically, spinning around and dodging Amy as he begins to make his way to the front door. “Unlike you, I don’t have time to play around in the morning.”

Mark shoots Eduardo a dark before following Chris, stopping only to tell Amy that she needs to go get ready for school.

“Chris, wait, it’s not what you think,” Mark says, jogging to catch up to him in the hallway outside.

“You don’t want to know what I’m thinking right now,” Chris snaps, turning back and glaring at him. Mark considers reaching out to put his hand on his shoulder, but he thinks Chris might rip it off if he even tries.

“If you would just calm down-”

“Calm down? Fuck you, Mark. Weren’t you the one who said I could _never_ stay over because you have Amy, and we needed to mountain boundaries? Yet apparently tall, golden, and Bambi-eyed gets a free pass? You’re a class act, Zuckerberg,” he spits, and turns on his heel again.

“What about Amy?” he asks, “You said you were going to take her to school.”

But Chris doesn’t acknowledge him as he walks away and steps into the elevator, and Mark is left alone in the hallway is nothing but his pyjamas.

“Fuck,” he mutters, heading back inside. The living room is empty, thankfully, which must mean Amy has at least gone to do as asked and Eduardo-

“He seemed lovely,” he says, appearing from around the corner, “And he had very nice hair.”

Mark blinks, because Eduardo appears to have acquired a shirt that has a pattern suspiciously similar to the ‘Carribean Night’ style curtains from the kitchen.

“Where did you get that shirt?” Mark asks, and Eduardo looks down at it.

“It’s fun, right? I made it myself,” he spins around a little, as if to show it off.

“You _made_ it? In the two minutes I was gone? That’s not possible,” he says, thinking he must still be dreaming. He half wishes he was, considering all the shit he’s had to deal with already this morning, and it’s not even 8am.

“It’s not hard for me to make stuff,” Eduardo shrugs, “Sewing relaxes me.”

It dawns on Mark that Eduardo is serious, and that he somehow did manage to make an entire outfit for himself in the time he was out dealing with Chris. Which means he had to have gotten the fabric from somewhere, and he has a feeling that the windows in the kitchen are now bare.

“Did you use my curtains?” he asks, just to be sure.

The smile finally falls off Eduardo’s face, and he looks both confused and apologetic, which is all the information Mark needs.

“You need to leave,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I’ll get you a ticket for whatever it is you need to go, but I can’t deal with you right now.”

“I’ve made you upset, haven’t I?” Eduardo asks.

“No, you’ve made me angry,” Mark snaps, and the expression on Eduardo’s face turns to one of confusion

“Angry?” Eduardo asks, as if he’s unfamiliar with the word.

“Yes, _angry._ What, you don’t feel it in your land?” He growls, and Eduardo looks like he’s about to give an answer, but Mark plows on. “You brought vermin into my apartment, you cut up my curtains, you’ve created unnecessary problems with Chris, who I wanted to ask to marry m-”

Mark’s cut off mid-rant by Eduardo letting out a shriek, suddenly looking more pleased and excited than confused and apologetic.

“You’re going to propose? That’s beautiful.”

“Right. Well, it would have been, except now Chris thinks that you and I-”

“Kissed?” Eduardo interrupts, looking horrified at the thought. Not for the first time, Mark wonders if Eduardo is genuinely this naive or is just playing dumb, but he sighs nonetheless.

“Sure. He thinks we _kissed._ ”

“I’m terribly sorry, Mark, I mean it,” Eduardo says, “You’ve been nothing but nice to me, and I feel awful knowing that I’ve caused you so much distress. I’m happy to help you write a song for him to reassure him of your affections.”

Mark deflates a little at that, because _what?_ He’s about to press Eduardo for more information on the songwriting suggestion before getting rid of him for good, but a voice cuts in before he can say anything.

“Dad? Eduardo?”

They both turn to see Amy standing there, dressed in her school uniform with her bag in hand.

“Chris left, right?” she says, “So you guys need to take me to school.”

Mark doesn’t appreciate being put in a group with Eduardo, but he can’t get upset with his daughter for it. Eduardo seems delighted at the prospect, his eyes suddenly filled with joy instead of guilt.

“Amy, go get breakfast while I get ready for work. Eduardo, you can come with,” he sighs, because he can’t exactly leave him here alone, lest he bring in more rodents from the street. He’ll let Marilyn sort it out, he just needs to get his daughter to school and himself to the office.

Amy and Eduardo both seem delighted by this news, grinning at each other while she rushes forward to take his take his hand, pulling him towards the kitchen.

“Come on, we’ve got all the cereals _and_ orange juice,” she tells him. Apparently, bringing pigeons into their home didn’t manage to shatter her illusions about him like it did with Mark.

* * *

 By the time Mark gets to the office, he’s running seriously late and on the verge of losing his mind. Eduardo had insisted on complimenting everything and everyone, including a street vendor that was so flattered, he gave Eduardo a tacky straw hat. So now he’s going to have to deal with a pissed off client and somehow figure out what to do with a guy who speaks like he’s from a Hallmark card and dresses like he’s attending a ridiculous costume party, all while hoping that he hasn’t completely ruined his relationship.

“Mrs Lee is furious,” Marilyn hisses as he walks up to her desk, Eduardo trailing behind him, “Mrs Cantwell is already here with Gretchen, and you’re late, and-”

“I’m aware,” Mark snaps “It’s been a shitty morning. Can you let me know if Chris calls?”

Marilyn frowns, looking like she wants to investigate that further, then finally seems to notice Eduardo standing behind him.

“Who’s this?”

“I’m Eduardo,” Eduardo says, stepping forward to introduce himself before Mark can, “It’s lovely to meet you.”

Marilyn gives him a short nod, before turning back to Mark. “What’s he doing here?”

“He’s lost and confused,” Mark replies, “Can you just find out where he’s from so I can send him home? I’ll pay for it, I just need him gone.”

Marilyn looks at Mark, then to Eduardo, and then back to Mark, and he just knows she’s going to say something, so he turns around and starts heading towards the elevators before she can. Let her handle Eduardo, he has other things he needs to focus on.

“Good luck, Mark!” Eduardo calls after him, but Mark refuses to acknowledge him.

Things go surprisingly well, considering that Mark turned up late and the opposing lawyer, Gretchen, seems to have it out for him. Christy still seems to be pretty angry at him, but they’re getting closer to reaching a settlement, which means Mark is getting closer to being free of this case. He’d be a step closer if he hadn’t been held up this morning, but he’s trying not to think about that in an attempt to keep his anger levels down.

It’s a little hard to keep the root of his new problems off his mind though, considering when he gets back to the front desk, said root of problems is still there, looking out the windows with delight. Marilyn is eyeing him warily from behind her desk, and it’s only because she know she’d kill him if he abandoned her with Eduardo that Mark doesn’t sneak out.

“Excuse me,” he tells Christy, walking up to Marilyn’s desk just as she catches his eye.

“He doesn’t have a driver’s license, or a passport, or any kind of ID,” she hisses as soon as Mark is in earshot, “And this place he’s from - Kirklandia, or whatever it’s called - doesn’t exist.”

Mark frowns. “That’s ridiculous. It has to exist.”

“Then maybe you want to try finding it,” Marilyn snaps, “Because I’ve called every travel agent, and half of them have laughed at me. And he’s been absolutely no help.”

She jerks her head in the direction of Eduardo, who has now abandoned the window and is walking around the foyer with amazement.

“Do you want to tell me what he said when I asked?” Marilyn continues, “He said it’s just beyond on the Valley of Joy and the Meadow of Contentment. I don’t even know what that _means_.”

Mark is about to inquire further, but he’s thrown off by the sound of Eduardo’s voice behind him.

“Oh, you’re gorgeous.”

Mark turns around, almost dropping his briefcase when he notices that Eduardo has started talking to Christy. Christy doesn’t seem to be bothered by him, flicking her hair over her shoulder and giving Eduardo a smile, but Mark knows how volatile she can be and how odd Eduardo is, so rushes over nonetheless.

He’s glad he did when he hears Eduardo’s next statement.

“Whoever holds your heart is very, very lucky,” Eduardo continues, not seeming to notice when Christy’s smile falls from her face, “I hope they know that.”

“Eduardo,” Mark grabs his arm, trying to pull him away before he can say anything else, “Come on.”

Because the universe is clearly out to get Mark, Alice and Gretchen appear then, and Eduardo slips out of his grasp to go talk to them. Alice, who Mark would’ve found pleasant if they had met under any other circumstances, gives him a confused smile.

“You must be the lucky woman,” Eduardo tells her, “Though your lady is very lucky too, your smile is _beautiful._ No wonder you love each other.”

Alice frowns, looking at Christy briefly, before turning back to Eduardo, who has yet to pick up on the tension.

“Mr Zuckerberg, what kind of operation do you think you’re running here?” Gretchen demands, stepping in front of Alice before her client has a chance to respond, “Who is this man?”

“That’s none of your business,” Mark replies, trying his best not to snap, “It’s not related to the case.”

“It seems like an intimidation tactic to me,” Gretchen counters, narrowing her eyes as Mark attempts to tug Eduardo away.

“It’s _nothing,_ ” he says, pulling Eduardo out of earshot. He can feel both Gretchen and Christy glaring at him from behind, and hopes Sy or Marilyn deals with it while he takes care of Eduardo.

“Eduardo, you can’t say things like that to people,” he tells him, “It’s not like that.”

“What do you mean?” Eduardo asks, frowning and trying to peer at them over Mark’s shoulder, “They’re in love, aren’t they?”

“No. Not anymore. They’re separating.”

Mark’s had to handle a lot of people crying over the course of his career, has had to deal with a lot of pain and heartbreak. But he’s never seen anyone’s face absolutely crumple the way Eduardo’s does upon hearing of someone else’s divorce.

“For how long?” he asks, and there’s a tiny bit of hope still in his voice that Mark suddenly feels awful about the fact he’s about to crush it.

“Forever,” he says, and Eduardo actually starts crying. He knows how ridiculous and unprofessional this entire thing looks, and he decides he can deal with Christy later, but he needs to get out of here before Eduardo starts a scene and Gretchen offers more unwanted comments.

“Okay,” Mark says, pulling him away by the hand, “Let’s leave before you make my life even more difficult.”

It’s a rude thing to say, but whatever, it’s not like Eduardo can hear him over the sound of his own tears anyway.

* * *

 “This is why I don’t do nice things for people,” Mark grumbles as he leads Eduardo down the street towards Central Park, “Because I end up being punished for it.”

“You have been _very_ nice,” Eduardo agrees.

“Right, well, I can’t do it anymore,” Mark says, coming to a stop. Eduardo pauses in front of him, suddenly looking apologetic and concerned underneath his ridiculous straw hat.

“Oh,” is all he says.

“I’ll give you some money,” Mark says, pulling out his wallet and handing Eduardo some notes, “So you can get a room, or a cab, or a bus, or whatever. But I can’t handle this anymore. Just find your prince, okay?”

He knows it’s kind of a shitty thing to do, and that Eduardo means no harm, but he’s caused Mark too much trouble and stress in the last twelve hours. He doesn’t know how to deal with it, and he doesn’t want to deal with it.

“I’m sorry,” Eduardo says, “You’ve been nothing but kind to me, and I feel horrible knowing that I’ve caused you any pain or hurt. I want you to be happy, and if my presence is making that difficult, then I’ll go.”

Mark gives him a quick nod in response, trying to ignore the sudden feeling of guilt in his chest. Eduardo will be fine. He can manage on his own until he finds his fiance.

Mark keeps trying to convince himself of this as Eduardo gives him a final smile and turns away, waving at everyone he passes by on the path. He’ll be fine. He has to be.

He turns and begins to walk back to his office. He’s only taken a few steps when he decides to look back at Eduardo, just in time to see him hand the money to a man on a bench. Apparently, he doesn’t seem to realise that he needs it to get by, and Mark lets out a groan.

“Fuck,” Mark mutters, realising that leaving Eduardo alone probably isn’t the best option. He decides that work can wait and heading back towards Eduardo, who is now deep in conversation with the man.

“You really saw him?” Eduardo asks, and the man nods enthusiastically.

“Eduardo,” Mark sighs, and Eduardo turns to him with a smile. “What are you doing?”

“Mark! This is my friend, Bob.”

“Hey,” Bob waves, and he looks like the stoners Mark knew back at college.

“Bob saw Dustin this morning,” Eduardo says, voice filled with excitement, “Isn’t that wonderful news?”

“He came onto the bus and started swinging a sword around,” Bob adds, and Eduardo actually _giggles_ with delight.

“That’s because he’s a prince,” Mark says sarcastically, but neither Eduardo nor Bob seem to pick up on his tone.

“Shit, that makes sense,” says Bob, and Mark decides to lead Eduardo away before he can meet anyone else or engage further with this weirdo.

“Eduardo,” he sighs, once they’re out of Bob’s earshot, “You can’t just give people money.”

“Why not?” Eduardo asks, “You gave me money. If you asked me and I had anymore to give, I’d give you all the money you asked for. It’s a nice thing to do, isn’t it?

Mark briefly considers explaining to Eduardo that there’s a difference between being kind to friends or helping those in need, and just giving the only money you have to strangers on the street, but it’s not worth it. Eduardo seems to function under a completely different mindset to most people, and would probably just say that Mark is strange and unpleasant for his beliefs.

“Sure,” he sighs. It dawns on him that he’s probably going to have to keep an eye on Eduardo just for a little bit longer, because every attempt to let him out of his sight so far hasn’t gone as planned. He at least needs to find someone that Eduardo knows, so he can pass him over to them, but so far Eduardo’s only spoken about his fiancé and the mean old man.

Mark figures his fiancé would be more helpful, and decides to find out more about the guy Eduardo is so endeared by. If nothing else, it’s certainly the topic that he seems to know the most about, and Mark might be able to get some useful information about Eduardo’s life through his talk about the prince.

“So, this prince of yours-” he begins, but Eduardo cuts him off with a nod before he can say anything else.

“Prince Dustin, yes.”

“Right. How long have you known him?” Mark asks, because Eduardo’s so intense about him, and wonders how long they’ve been together to achieve that level of dedication.

“One day,” Eduardo replies, and doesn’t seem to notice Mark’s reaction to that.

“ _One day?_ ”

“Yes,” Eduardo nods, not seeing anything weird about this, “And tomorrow it will be two days, and the day after that-”

“I get it,” Mark interrupts, “But it doesn’t make any sense. You can’t marry someone you’ve only known for a day.”

“Of course I can. He’s my true love.”

Mark stops in the street, waiting for Eduardo to come to a halt next to him. He does, smiling at Mark in confusion, as if _he’s_ the one talking nonsense.

“But how do you know that? You just met him,” Mark argues.

“Because that’s how it works,” Eduardo replies, “You meet someone, you fall in love, you share true love’s kiss - the most powerful thing in the world - and you live happily ever after. Isn’t that what happened with you and Chris?”

“No. I’ve known him for five years.”

Eduardo actually laughs at that. “And you haven’t asked him to marry you? No wonder he’s mad. That’s so long.”

He starts walking, and Mark has no choice but to follow him - he still doesn’t think Eduardo should be left alone, given how dreamy he is. That, and Mark doesn’t want him to get the last word on their relationships debate.

Before he can reply to Eduardo’s comment about Chris, though, a man that looks like he should be training for the Olympics instead of selling fruit in Central Park steps out in front of them, brandishing a golden coloured apple.

“A caramel apple,” he says, nodding at Eduardo. “For the gentleman.”

“Oh!” Eduardo smiles at the man, taking it from him “Thank you, that is awfully kind of you.”

“For free?” Mark asks. “Really?”

The man gives them both a toothy grin, watching as Eduardo twirls the stick between his fingers “You have a nice smile, you get a free caramel apple. That’s my stand’s policy.”

Mark is relieved that he does not in fact have a nice smile, and does not have to deal with people with far too much teeth giving him free apples.

Eduardo really does have a nice smile, however, and it brightens at the man’s compliment. “You’re very kind.”

“Alright, nice smile shown, apple acquired, let’s go,” Mark says, tugging Eduardo away from him. He can feel the eyes of the man on their backs as they walk away, but Eduardo doesn’t seem to notice or care.

Once they’re far enough away, Mark turns to him. “Chris isn’t mad at me because I haven’t asked him to marry me yet. Five years is a perfectly normal amount of time. Most people like to get to know someone before marrying them. They go on dates.”

“What’s a date?” Eduardo asks, missing the slight edge to his voice.

Like so much of the stuff Eduardo has said to him in the past day, it sounds like a joke. If it was anyone else, Mark would think they were mocking him, but Eduardo seems so genuine about this question, and everything else. Mark doesn’t believe everything that comes out of his mouth, but he has no doubt that Eduardo does, and he means every word of it.

“You don’t know what a date is?” He asks, just to be sure, and Eduardo shakes his head.

“No. Are they nice?”

Mark, truthfully, doesn’t really enjoy dates. Erica used to say he was terrible at them, and Chris seems to share the sentiment, though it appears to bother him less. He doesn’t like the small talk that early dates require or the need to exceed expectations the later ones do, even if he acknowledges that they’re an important part of a relationship. But admitting this would be like admitting defeat, and Eduardo seems like he actually wants to know more about them, so Mark just shrugs.

“Depends what you like,” he says, “You go on them to get to know each other. Dinner, or a movie, or a museum or something. You just spend time with them and talk to them. About yourself. They’re a normal thing for most people to do.”

“That does sound nice,” Eduardo admits, sounding kind of wistful, “Strange, but nice.”

They walk in silence for a minute, Mark watching Eduardo as he seems to mull over Mark’s words, twirling the uneaten caramel apple between his fingers.

“Maybe you should go on some with your prince,” he says after a moment to break the silence, and Eduardo smiles but shakes his head.

“He’s my happily ever after,” Eduardo announces, throwing out his arms and wincing when the untouched caramel apple goes flying. “I don’t need to go on lots of dates to know that.”

“That’s ridiculous. Happily ever after isn’t real,” he says, and Eduardo’s face crumbles in confusion.

“What about Chris?”

“What about him?”

“You love him, don’t you?” He asks. “So you’ll live happily ever after.”

Eduardo says this as if it’s a _fact,_ like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and he doesn’t understand how Mark could think otherwise. Whenever they’d fight, Erica would tell him that he’d always miss the obvious and couldn’t accept being wrong. But Mark knows he’s not wrong this time, and he’s not missing the obvious, because Erica proved that there are no happily ever after when she walked out on him and their daughter.

“Sure, I love him. But this is the real world, and all you can hope for is a marriage to not end in divorce. The magic and wonder isn’t real.”

“It is real,” Eduardo insists, “If you love him, then all that magic and wonder _is_ real. You just need to show him as such, then maybe you’ll believe it.”

Mark pinches the bridge of his nose. “He knows. Or at least, he did, before this morning.”

“But how does he know? Do you _show_ him?”

Mark frowns. “I don’t--no, I tell him. Sometimes. I don’t need to _show_ him—I don’t even know what you mean by that.”

Eduardo stares at him for a moment, before his face breaks into another one of his incredibly bright grins.

* * *

 Mark’s still reeling from the musical number when he gets to Chris’ studio, Eduardo following behind and humming to himself. He’s trying to convince himself that it was just a coincidence – Mark is incredibly out of date with pop culture, it wouldn’t be surprising if the song was a hit and he was just unaware – but he’s never seen someone get that many people involved in an impromptu musical number. And Eduardo treated it like it was so normal, like that kind of stuff happens everyday to him.

Honestly, Mark’s starting to believe that that could very well be the case.

Chris notices them and beckons Mark over, and Eduardo lightly shoves him towards him. Mark goes, at least in part so he can avoid having to hear another song about love and feelings.

Chris seems to be in a significantly better mood than this morning, giving Mark a quick smile before staring down at the flower arrangement and doves on the bench. The doves that Eduardo summoned during his song, the ones who seem to exist just to make sure Mark doesn’t totally fuck up his relationship. He doesn’t believe in Eduardo’s delusions or his daughter’s fantasises about magical lands and princes, but he has to admit that the man does seem to have some kind of affinity with wildlife.

“They’re beautiful,” Chris says, beaming at the flowers. “Much better than those digital ones you sent me via ecard once.”

Mark had thought that had been rather romantic at the time, but maybe he’s missing as much as Eduardo seems to think he is.

“And doves? I didn’t even know you could _get_ doves to deliver you flowers,” Chris continues, and Mark’s pretty sure normal people can’t. But Eduardo’s anything but normal.

He doesn’t think that’s what Chris wants to hear though, so he just shrugs. “I owed you one.”

Chris snorts, picking up a cream coloured envelope from the desk. “And tickets to the ball? Don’t get me wrong, I love it, but I thought you hated dancing.”

Mark hadn’t even noticed Eduardo getting them in the middle of his performance, but even he knows that he can’t say that. “Maybe I owed you two.”

Chris seems to accept this, leaning up to kiss his cheek. Neither of them are particularly big on PDA, so it seems to be a sign that he’s forgiven, and Mark’s glad that at least Eduardo knows how to be apologetic and romantic.

Right. Eduardo.

Mark thinks he should probably explain the incident this morning just to make sure that everything _is_ okay between them, though he doesn’t think he did anything wrong. It’s not like he wanted an overdressed man with bright eyes and good hair to fall into his arms and crash at his apartment.

“Look, about this morning. Eduardo just needed my help,” he says, glancing back at him. He’s making the other workers in the studio smile and laugh, because his joy is completely infectious. “It didn’t mean anything. He’s just confused and weird.”

Chris waves his hand. “If you say it’s nothing, then it’s nothing.”

The thing Mark likes ( _loves,_ a voice in his head that sounds strangely like Eduardo tells him) about Chris is that while he’s dramatic, he doesn’t make a big deal out of things that don’t matter.

“It’s nothing,” Mark insists, and Chris smiles at him.

“Look, I need to get back to work, but I’ll see you tomorrow night?” Chris asks, nodding towards the ball tickets on the table. Under normal circumstances, Mark would rather die than go to any event that required dancing, but he’s smart enough to realise that he’s on thin ice right now. He can suffer through it for one night, propose, and everything will be back to normal. Once he figures out what to do with Eduardo, at any rate.

“Right. I’ll go deal with him,” he says, tilting his head in the direction of Eduardo. Mark can hear him asking one of the women about her wedding. Mark vaguely remembers having to go to the event as Chris’ plus one, and not caring about it in the slightest, but Eduardo seems enthralled.

“Let me know how that goes,” Chris replies, playing with the petals on one of the flowers. “He’s a strange man, isn’t he?”

Mark thinks about Eduardo getting the entirety of Central Park to sing and dance with him, getting animals to ‘clean’ up the apartment, his ability to make an entire outfit out of curtains and pillow cases within minutes, and his wholehearted belief in true loves kiss.

“That’s putting it lightly.”

* * *

 They go out for dinner that night, because Amy found out that Eduardo had never eaten pizza and insisted that he had to try it. She’d been excited to see him when they went to pick her up from school that afternoon, and Eduardo had been just as happy to see her. Mark’s still not sure what he’s meant to do with him, because Eduardo _actually_ has nowhere to go or anyone else he knows, so he’s relieved Amy can enjoy his presence for the time being. She’s even started to call him _Wardo_ , an affectionate nickname that Eduardo is absolutely delighted by.

Eduardo, unsurprisingly, had been as excited by the restaurant and the food and the crowd like he was with everything else. He’d smiled at all the staff and had taken Amy’s food recommendations to heart, and then asked Mark if they were on a date midway through a conversation about his job.

(“We’re having dinner and talking about each other,” he’d frowned “Isn’t that a date?”

“No, it’s not. I mean, we’re just friends. Friends don’t go on dates.”

Eduardo had seemed confused but accepted it, and Mark hoped he wasn’t blushing.)

They’re watching Amy now as the old woman who owns the restaurant attempts to teach her how to make swans from cloth napkins. Mark smiles as his daughter lets out a giggle loud enough from them to hear from their table.

“She’s so sweet,” Eduardo says softly, “You’re very lucky.”

Mark nods, “I know.”

Kids had never been part of Mark’s life plan, but then Erica had gotten pregnant, and maybe they weren’t the healthiest couple, but they were in love, and stable enough to raise a kid. Mark regrets a lot of things about that stage in his life, but Amy isn’t one of them.

They’re silent for a moment, and then Eduardo, his voice soft once again, asks, “Do you talk about her mother?”

Mark turns to face him, planning to shut the conversation down before it begins, but something in Eduardo’s expression stops him. He just _looks_ so honest and open, and something in Mark wants to tell him the truth.

“No,” Mark says, after hesitating for a moment, and Eduardo frowns, “I don’t bring it up, and Amy doesn’t ask. We just don’t discuss it. I don’t talk about it with anyone, really.”

“Is it too sad to talk about?” Eduardo asks, “Because if it is--”

“No, it’s not _sad._ Not now. It’s just a shitty situation.”

He doesn’t know really know why he’s talking to Eduardo about this, when he’s made it a point to never talk about it. Even Chris only knows the facts of the situation, and Amy, for all her concerns about stepparents, has never brought up her mother. Yet Eduardo is so easy to talk to, so sweet and genuine, that it doesn’t feel weird at all. They’ve barely known each other a day and Mark already knows that he can’t trust him completely.

“Did you love her?”

Mark shrugs, “Yes. But that didn’t matter in the end. Happily ever after didn’t end up happening for us.”

Eduardo winces, but he doesn’t defend his delusions, just asks one final question, “Why not?”

“She left,” he says, and the moment that he hates is coming: when people’s eyes flood with pity, and they apologise and promise that things will work out for him and Amy. That’s why Mark had liked Chris, at first: Chris didn’t give him any of that when he found out, and it was such a nice and normal change from most of the people he would go on dates with.

Eduardo’s eyes, however, do fill with pity, and Mark knows he’s going to apologize before Mark even says the words, “I’m sorry.”

But Mark doesn’t hate it like he normally does, and offers Eduardo a small smile in response.

“It’s fine,” he says, “I’m over it. I worry about Amy sometimes, though.”

Eduardo’s eyes flicker back to the girl in question, “She’s a wonderful girl. She’ll be alright. You’re doing a good job with her.”

Mark snorts, “You think so?”

Eduardo smiles at him, reaching over to squeeze his hand, “I know so.”

Mark looks down at their hands, wanting to turn his own up and intertwine his fingers with Eduardo. But he can’t, because Eduardo has a fiancé and Mark has a boyfriend and they’re in public, and it’s not possible for him to like someone this much after a day. So he tugs his hand away gently instead, offering a small smile so Eduardo will know he doesn’t mean it maliciously.

“What about you?” He asks, “What were your parents like?”

“My mother died when I was little,” Eduardo says, but he doesn’t even sound sad about it - it’s just something he’s always known. “And my father wasn’t a very nice man. Nothing like you.”

He sounds sad about _that_ though, and Mark frowns, because he can’t imagine anyone ever being mean to Eduardo. Especially Eduardo’s father, who should’ve known better than anyone how kind his son was, even if a little naive and dramatic.

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Mark says, though he knows Eduardo would happily share his life story if he asked, “But you didn’t deserve that.”

“It’s okay, Mark,” Eduardo smiles, “That’s why I live in the forest with all the woodland creatures. They’re such good friends, and they’ve always looked after me. They’re my family.”

Mark knows that all of Eduardo’s talk of his fairytale life isn’t true, because it’s not possible. But the more he talks about it, and the more Eduardo seems outside of his musical numbers and his talk about princes and woodland creatures, the more Mark wants to believe him.

He doesn’t get a chance to ask Eduardo more about his friends, however, because a glass is suddenly placed on the table between them.

“An appletini,” a voice announces, and Mark looks up to see a waiter that looks suspiciously like the tall guy that was running the apple stand in the park, “From a secret admirer.”

“That was kind of them,” Eduardo says, picking up the glass and eyeing the colourful liquid inside.

“People give you a lot of free stuff,” Mark comments, and Eduardo just shrugs in response.

He goes to take a sip, apparently unbothered by the fact the waiter is still hanging around and watching intently. Mark watched as he brings the glass to his lips, and then—

There’s a flash of movement and then he hears glass shattering.

Mark focuses back on Eduardo to make sure he’s okay, but Eduardo isn’t looking at him, he’s distracted by what looks like—-a _chipmunk_?

“Sean!” Eduardo squeals, scooping the chipmunk into his hands and sounding even happier than usual.

“ _You_!” snarls the waiter, looking as if he’s talking to the chipmunk as well. Mark wants to know what the deal with this creature is, but before he can say anything, his daughter appears and tugs at his sleeve.

“ _Dad_ , is it hurting Eduardo?” She asks, and Mark glances back at Eduardo, who’s brought the chipmunk up to his ear. He doesn’t seem to be bothered by it, and has even _named_ the animal, but he wouldn’t put it past the other man to befriend rabid vermin. He reaches out to tug at Eduardo’s sleeve, just as the hand of the waiter comes crashing down on the table.

Mark jumps to his feet and pulls Amy back, watching as the waiter attempts grab the chipmunk out of Eduardo’s hands. He misses and the creature jumps away, and Eduardo stumbles out of his chair.

“Don’t hurt him,” he cries, as Mark grabs his hand and pulls him over. Eduardo comes reluctantly, watching with a frown as the waiter and other diners attempt to find where the chipmunk has gone.

“Did it bite you?” He asks, and Eduardo looks away from the scene briefly to meet his eyes, looking offended at the notion of it.

“What? No, Sean is my best friend. He would never hurt me.”

Mark doesn’t get a chance to interrogate him about Sean the Chipmunk, His Best Friend, because Amy suddenly yells that the pizza is moving.

* * *

 Later that night, back at the apartment, Mark’s making his way to the bathroom when he hears voices coming from Amy’s room. He’d told her to brush her teeth as soon as they got home, wanting her in bed as early as possible after the night they’d had. She’d whined a little, saying that she wanted to hear more about Eduardo’s animal friends, but she’d been too tired to put up much of a fight.

Eduardo had calmed down considerably by that point – once he’d got confirmation that the chipmunk had escaped, and had not, in fact, been burned alive in a pizza oven – and had offered to put Amy to bed while Mark had a shower.

He’s sitting on the edge of Amy’s bed when Mark comes to stand in the doorway, Amy under the covers and clutching one of her teddy bears under her chin.

“Are you sure that Sean’s going to be okay?” she asks, and Eduardo smiles and nods.

“Oh, I know he is. Sean doesn’t give up that easily,” Eduardo reassures her, “He’s very strong, and very brave.”

Amy doesn’t look convinced, so Eduardo reaches out and holds her hand.

“I remember once, when I had just moved to the forest, we found out about this horrible lady that was going around and stealing things from all the nice animals. And I told Sean to be careful and to stay out of everyone’s business, but he didn’t listen to me.”

“What did he do?”

“Well, he heard that this lady – her name was Goldilocks – was trying to rob the very nice Bear family, and he made sure she stopped. I don’t know what Little Bear would have done if Sean hadn’t intervened when he had, or if he’d listened to me in the first place. He does what he thinks is best, and he’s helped so many that way”

Amy looks a little confused, but still smiles at him all the same. “I didn’t know Goldilocks was the bad guy.”

“Of course she is, sweetie. I know so many animals who were hurt by her actions.”

Amy nods at that. Apparently, in the past twenty-four hours, she’s started to take Eduardo’s word as the absolute truth.

“Goodnight Eduardo. Thank you for the nice story,” she says, and Mark watches as he leans over to kiss her on the forehead.

“Goodnight, Amy,” he replies, “Sweet dreams.”

Mark walks away before either of them can notice him, but he can’t stop the smile that’s creeping along his face, despite his best efforts.

Mark isn’t sure when during the past day that he grew to appreciate Eduardo’s presence rather than being bothered by him, but he’s suddenly far more grateful for him than he was this morning. He’s grown on him, and Mark’s going to be sad to see him go when his prince turns up.

_If he turns up,_ he thinks.

Mark has been so sure that he was right about Dustin, about the lack of happily ever after, that it didn’t even occur to him that Eduardo would be hurt by things not going the way he wants them to. Mark’s right, he knows he is because he always is, but he’s suddenly all too aware of what that’s going to mean for Eduardo.

He doesn’t want Eduardo to get left behind too.

He swallows, running a hand through his curls, and decides that he needs to bring it up with him. He needs to somehow soften the blow, because as ridiculous as is dreams are, Mark doesn’t want Eduardo to hurt.

He showers quickly, trying to think of how best to say _“Look, the man you love probably isn’t coming, please accept this and know I care.”_ He’s still thought of nothing by the time he goes to the living room to talk to Eduardo, who’s sitting on the couch in one of Mark’s old shirts and a pair of sweatpants that are a little too short in the leg.

Eduardo seems distracted, clutching a pillow and staring off into space, and Mark clears his throat to get his attention.

“That was, uh, a nice story you told Amy,” he says, “About your friend.”

“Oh, I have a lot of stories about Sean,” Eduardo says, sounding fondly exasperated, “My favourite involves marlins and a trout, but it’s a little too long for a bedtime story.”

Mark snorts. He almost asks to hear it, but then he remembers that the Sean that Eduardo is referring to is a chipmunk, and he came to talk about more serious matters.

“Listen, Eduardo, can we talk?”

Eduardo nods.

He pauses for a moment, shoving his hands in the pockets of his robe. Mark has never been good at serious conversations, or letting people down easy, but he’s worried about Eduardo. He’s so caring and genuine and hopeful, and Mark doesn’t want to watch his heart break when his prince doesn’t come.

“About Dustin,” he begins, trying to ignore the way Eduardo’s smile grows, “If he doesn’t come, and you decide you want to stay in New York...well, I’m here for you. Amy and I would be happy to help you out.”

Eduardo’s smile doesn’t dim, but he shakes his head at Mark like he’s being ridiculous.

“I appreciate the gesture Mark, it really is kind of you. I’ve grown very fond of you and Amy. But you don’t need to worry. Dustin’s coming.”

He sounds so certain when he says it, and while Mark doesn’t want to crush his hopes, he knows it’ll be worse if he doesn’t hear this from someone soon.

“You don’t know that,” Mark tells him, because he knows _he_ has to be that someone.

“Yes, I _do_ know that,” Eduardo argues, the smile falling from his face, and Mark feels annoyance spark up in his own chest. He didn’t come here to argue with Eduardo, he wanted to genuinely help him, but Eduardo’s fantasies make it so difficult to do so.

“How could you possibly know that?” he demands, “He’s given you no indication that he’s coming.”

“I know because Sean told me,” Eduardo retorts, throwing the pillow he was holding back down onto the couch.

Mark stares at Eduardo for a second, before letting out a laugh. He knows how bad it looks, how quickly this is spiralling out of his control, but he can’t hold back his judgement at that.

“ _Sean_ told you? Sean the chipmunk? You’re putting your hopes in the hands of a rodent?”

Eduardo narrows his eyes.

“Yes! I know you don’t understand it, but I trust him. And I trust Dustin,” he replies tightly, more annoyed than Mark’s ever seen him.

“Why? You’ve known him for a day, you don’t _know_ him enough to trust him,” Mark reminds him, and a small, traitorous part of his mind reminds him that _you feel like you can trust Eduardo, and you’ve only known him a day_.

“Because he’s my true love, and he promised that we’d be together,” Eduardo insists, and Mark _can’t_ do this anymore, can’t have the same fight for the third time this day, “I need to have faith that he’ll rescue me.”

“Yeah? And how’s that going for you so far?”

Mark regrets the words the moment he says them, because it’s not fair to Eduardo at all. Eduardo is weird and maybe too naïve, sure, but he’s kind and genuine and doesn’t deserve Mark being rude to him. And Mark didn’t come here to fight, and he did want to give advice – he’s just never been particularly good at it.

He goes to apologize but before he can, Eduardo gets to his feet, opening and closing his mouth several times.

“Just because things aren’t going the way I imagined doesn’t mean things aren’t going to work out, but you just don’t care, do you Mark? You just have to keep bringing this up and acting so smug because you don’t believe in happy endings. You’re so rude! All of the time!” Eduardo snaps, coming to stand in front of him “And it’s not just rudeness, it’s this attitude you have, like you’re so convinced you’re right all the time. It’s so…it makes me so…”

Eduardo trails off, as if he’s trying to think of the right word, and his eyes light up when he finds it.

“Angry! You make me so _angry_ , sometimes.”

This isn’t a first. Mark’s been told he makes a lot of people angry, and it isn’t new at all. What _is_ new, however, is the fact that Eduardo doesn’t look angry at all. In fact, he’s still smiling like he always does, and even claps his hands together.

“Angry! I feel angry! I’m _angry._ ”

His face falls then, and he shoves Mark’s shoulder a little, but Mark can tell his anger has been replaced by his excitement over the new emotion. He reaches out his hand to grab Eduardo’s arm just to be sure, and Eduardo laughs a little at him.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m angry. Well, I was. And now I feel _wonderful,”_ Eduardo replies, his eyes flicking down to Mark’s hand. He thinks back to earlier that night, when Eduardo had grabbed his hand in the restaurant and Mark wanted nothing more than to intertwine their fingers. Or earlier that day, when Eduardo had been singing and dancing around Central Park, and Mark, despite his best efforts, found himself enjoying his company, getting caught up in Eduardo’s contagious happiness.

It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense. Nothing relating to Eduardo makes sense. But something about the past twenty four hours, about the time he’s spent with him, has been…well, as Eduardo said, _wonderful._ Something about Eduardo is wonderful, and Mark doesn’t know what to do with that.

“Are you okay?” Eduardo asks, and Mark pulls away from him with a jolt.

“What? I’m fine. Never better,” he says, and steps backwards before he does something stupid, like feel Eduardo’s ridiculous hair or kiss him. They both have other men that love them, and Mark barely knows Eduardo, and none of this is right. “Um. I should probably go to bed.”

“Right,” Eduardo says, the excitement and anger gone from his voice. He sounds almost sad, though Mark doesn’t know why he would be. He thinks his prince is coming, to take him back to _Kirklandia_ and away from Mark. Shouldn’t he be happy? “Goodnight Mark. Sweet dreams.”

Mark nods. “Goodnight Eduardo.”

And then he turns around and heads back to his bedroom, trying to ignore the feel of Eduardo’s eyes on his back.

* * *

 The moment with Eduardo last night mean nothing.

Mark’s made the decision to not make a big deal out of it, and even avoid talking about it unless Eduardo brings it up first. They’d been tired, and all hyped up from all the night’s drama. Eduardo got a little carried away upon discovering a new emotion. Mark had just wanted him to realise that his fairytale dreams weren’t reality. Things had gotten a little out of hand, but it meant nothing.

When he gets to the kitchen, it appears that Eduardo is following the same mindset. He’s talking to Amy with a coffee pot in his hand, wearing the North Face jacket Mark had lent him the night before when they were walking home. While Mark’s relieved that Eduardo isn’t destroying more of his furniture to make outfits, he misses the excitement of his homemade wardrobe.

“Good morning!” he beams, pouring Mark a mug when he sees him, “Amy taught me how to make coffee!”

“I didn’t handle any boiling water, I swear,” Amy promises when Mark glances at her.

“I made breakfast too,” Eduardo adds, nodding at the pancakes and fruit on the table, “I wanted to thank you for all your kindness.”

Mark smiles at him, and Eduardo grins back, and the entire thing feels so domestic. Mark hasn’t done this with anyone in a long time; Erica left when Amy was too young for them to do things like a stereotypical family, and he’s never had Chris over like this before. It feels nice, and Mark tells himself that it’s just the situation, not Eduardo specifically.

He’s only just sat down when there’s a knock at the door, and Amy drops her fork.

“I’ll get it!” she announces as she runs out of the room, and Mark catches Eduardo watching her with a smile.

“You look, uh, nice in that jacket,” he tells him, and Eduardo blushes as he looks over at Mark.

“Sorry. I’ll give it back if you want,” he offers, but Mark shakes his head in protest. He goes to tell him that he looks better in it anyway, but a loud voice booms through the apartment before he can.

“It is I! Prince Dustin of Kirklandia, here to rescue the fair Eduardo!”

Mark turns to Eduardo, who is staring at him in shock. For all his talk, he seems surprised that Dustin has actually turned up, and isn’t dancing around and singing with excitement like Mark expected him to.

“He’s here,” Eduardo says, quickly getting to his feet, “He came.”

Mark follows him, ignoring the pang in his chest, “Apparently.”

Eduardo tries for a smile, but it’s shakier than the one Mark has grown used to, “How do I look?”

“Oh, um,” Mark pauses, taking in Eduardo’s stunned look and jeans, but there’s really only one word to describe him, “Beautiful.”

Eduardo smiles properly at that, but before he can saying anything else, they hear another yell from the living room.

“Eduardo? Are you here?”

Eduardo hurries towards the voice, and Mark follows him, suddenly feeling very thrown off. He gets to the doorway just in time to see a man in maroon tights pick Eduardo up and spin him around, Amy watching with fascination from the couch.

Mark winces as they nearly hit the coffee table several times, and on the third full spin, he steps in.

“I’d prefer it if you did this somewhere else,” he says, and Eduardo’s fiancé ( _Dustin,_ he remembers,) lets him down gently, only to pull his sword from its sheath.

He points the weapon at Mark, the tip of the sword just grazing his neck, and Amy screams.

“You!” He yells, and it’s not the time but Mark can’t help but notice that minus the sword and ridiculous outfit, this guy hardly looks like a prince - more like a jester, if he’s sticking to their royal fantasy nonsense. “You’re the one that’s been holding my dear Eduardo hostage!”

“That’s stupid,” Mark snaps before he can stop himself, and Dustin frowns in confusion as Mark takes the opportunity to step back. He goes to raise the sword again, but Eduardo intervenes.

“No, no! These are my friends. This is Mark and Amy,” he says, quickly stepping in front of Dustin’s sword, “They’ve been very kind and helpful.”

“Oh!” Dustin says, sheathing his sword immediately and grinning at them both, “Hi!”

“Hi,” says Amy, walking over and frowning at his sword, “Are you really a prince?”

Dustin nods enthusiastically, “I am indeed!”

He turns to Eduardo, and, much to Mark’s horror, begins to sing to him.

The song is about dreaming of a true love’s kiss, because of course it is, and Mark closes his eyes when it becomes obvious he expects Eduardo to sing it with him. He has no intentions of witnessing another musical number, let alone one where Eduardo sings about his undying love to another man.

But after Dustin’s prompted lyrics fails to get a reaction out of Eduardo three times, he opens his eyes. Eduardo appears to be deep in thought and unaware of Dustin’s attempts, and Mark decides to cut in before things get anymore uncomfortable.

“Is all this singing _normal_ for wherever you’re from?” he demands.

“In Kirklandia, it’s expected. My stepfather doesn’t, but he says exceptions are made for the King,” Dustin replies, unbothered by Eduardo’s lack of enthusiasm. “I’m sure once we get back, my beloved will return to performing duets with me.”

They both turn to look at Eduardo, who still doesn’t seem thrilled at the presence of Dustin. Mark can’t figure out why, because the Prince and true love’s kiss and happily ever after is all Eduardo has talked about the past few days. Surely he should be happy now that he’s turned up and is singing about that very topic.

“Eduardo?” Dustin prompts, “Are you ready to go home?”

“Oh, of course,” Eduardo replies, though he sounds hesitant, “I was just thinking that...maybe we could go on a date before we go back?”

Dustin looks confused.

“What’s a date?”

* * *

 Mark gets to work on time that day, but he feels much worse than he did before. Twenty-four hours ago, he would have done just about everything to get rid of Eduardo. Now that he’s gone, Mark finds himself missing him.

After Eduardo had explained the concept to him, Dustin had been more than happy to go on a whirlwind date around New York before they went back to Kirklandia. When they’d left to go on it, Amy had been distraught, making Eduardo promise to stay in touch and visit when he could. He’d even extended the offer for them to visit him back in his world, though the last place Mark wanted to go was somewhere where everybody sang all the time. He’d consider it for Eduardo, but he’d been so distracted and quiet ever since Dustin turned up, that Mark didn’t even get a chance to say a proper goodbye to him.

Eduardo had thanked him for his kindness and said that the time they spent together was wonderful, before promising to never forget him. Mark had wanted to say the same, and so much more, but Dustin had seemed eager to get on with their date, so Mark just wished them goodbye and good luck, and watched Eduardo walk away with the man he had been waiting for.

Amy had been silent on the way to school, sniffing and wiping at her eyes and trying her best to keep the tears at bay. She’d ignored Mark’s first attempts to ask her what was wrong, but eventually admitted that she was going to miss Eduardo so, so much.

Mark thinks he knows how she feels.

“No Eduardo today?” Marilyn asks when he walks in, and Mark shakes his head.

“No. His fiancé turned up.”

Something must show on his face because Marilyn frowns. However, despite her nosiness, she’s always known when to push it and when not to, and she lets it go, much to his relief.

“Probably for the best,” she says, “You’ve already got some Christy related things to deal with.”

“If it was about yesterday-” he begins, but Marilyn holds up a finger to silence him.

“It is,” she replies, “But not in the way you think.”

She refuses to give him any more information, instead directing him to one of the rooms they use for depositions. When Mark gets there, he’s been through a hundred different scenarios in his head, but none of them prepare him for what he actually sees when he opens the door.

Christy and Alice, hand in hand, sitting at the table with their forehead pressed together.

Mark stares at them for a moment, shutting the door behind them. They’re too caught up in each other to notice his presence, and it’s only when Mark sits down across from them and clears his throat that they pull away.

“Mark,” Christy smiles, red lipped and genuine, “You’re not late today.”

“What _is_ this?” he asks, ignoring the dig at him, “What happened to all the problems you were dealing with? You _wanted_ to divorce.”

“Well,” Alice says, grinning at Christy for a few more seconds before turning to Mark, “We were both thinking about that man yesterday, and how he said we were both so lucky to be in love with each other.”

“Not to mention what he said about Alice’s smile,” Christy adds, “It _is_ beautiful. It was the first thing I loved about her.”

“How romantic,” Mark says, not meaning any of it, “But look. Christy, as your attorney, I have to tell you that a chance encounter with a stranger-”

“That wasn’t a chance encounter,” she replies, “It was meant to happen. He was meant to lead us back together.”

“But you _still_ have problems.”

“So?” Alice shrugs, “We’ll work on them. We love each other. We’ll be okay.”

She turns back to Christy and they kiss, and Mark knows that nothing he say will convince them to proceed with the divorce. They really love each other, and they _want_ to fight for each other. In the space of a minute, Eduardo had managed to convince them that their love was worth it, and that they were lucky to have each other at all. Nothing Mark says can compete with that. I

So he just sits there, wondering if Eduardo has left _anyone’s_ life untouched.

* * *

 Mark spends the entire day unsuccessfully trying to think of Eduardo.

He shouldn’t be this focused on someone he barely knows, someone who caused multiple complications in his life within twelve hours of knowing him. Complications Eduardo had admittedly solved, but complications nonetheless. He shouldn’t be this focused on someone that’s engaged to someone else, especially when Mark has a man of his own. He shouldn’t be this focused on someone he’s never going to see again.

But he is, and Mark is still thinking about Eduardo’s bright smile and wide eyes and ridiculous hair and steadfast belief in fantasies when he’s arrived at the ball with Chris that evening.

“Mark?” Chris asks, and Mark turns to him in surprise, “Are you alright? That’s their fifth time you’ve drifted off in the past half hour.”

Mark nods, forcing what he hopes is a decent smile on his face, “Fine. Just worried about Amy.”

“We’ve gone on dates before,” Chris reminds him, but he seems to buy the excuse and Mark feels guilty about it. Chris doesn’t deserve to be lied to, but Mark knows that the truth would just make things worse. There’s no point making him upset over Eduardo, when Mark is sure that it’s just a temporary thing.

“Sure, but she’s still just a kid,” he shrugs, and Chris smiles at him kindly.

“I promise I won’t keep you long tonight,” he says, “Just dance with me like you promised for a bit. It’ll be fun.”

He holds out his hand, and Mark takes it as they walk down the staircase.

“I think you’ll find that there’s a reason I’ve never taken you dancing before,” Mark warns him, and Chris just lets out a laugh. _He’s great,_ Mark tells himself, as Chris tries to ease him into the correct stance, _You loved him before, remember?_

He manages to fake his happiness for long enough that night that it begins to feel genuine after awhile, even though Mark knows he’s not the best dancer. Chris is sweet and patient though, and even if Mark still feels awkward and like everyone is watching them, he eases into it with time.

“Well, you didn’t lie about not being good,” Chris admits after another song comes to an end, and Mark raises an eyebrow.

“That’s not very nice of you,” he replies, but Chris can see the humour in it and smiles at him. _That’s another good thing about Chris_ , Mark thinks, _he understands sarcasm, unlike a certain someone._

But even that just makes him miss Eduardo’s sincerity.

Chris turns away to applaud the band, and Mark glances in the opposite direction, towards the staircase, and his heart skips a beat once he recognises the person standing at the top of it.

It’s Eduardo, wearing more modern dress than he did the night they met, but more beautiful than ever. He’s looking out warily into the crowd, but when he catches Mark’s eyes, he smiles.

Mark smiles back.

“Mark, do you...” Chris begins, grazing his fingers along Mark’s arm, but he trails off once he follow Mark’s line of sight.

“Is that Eduardo?” he starts up again after a moment, and Mark nods without turning away from Eduardo, who is sneaking through the crowd towards them, “And his fiancé?”

Mark hadn’t even noticed Dustin, and he still barely glances at him as the other two come to a stop in front of them. He’s still so focused on Eduardo, who Mark never expected to see again. Eduardo, who looks everything like the prince he’s going to be.

“Eduardo,” Mark says, unable to keep a smile off his face, “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I told Dustin I wanted to come for our date. It just seemed so fun, and romantic,” he replies, and he looks even more beautiful the more mark looks at him. They stare at each other for a moment, Mark trying to find the appropriate words to say given their situation and present company.

As if on cue, Chris clears his throat, “Sorry, but I think some introductions are in order.”

“This is Dustin,” Eduardo says, waving his hand in the vicinity of Dustin’s direction, though he still doesn’t take his eyes off Mark, “He’s my…”

He seems lost for words, like he’s forgotten all the things he’d said about him just the day before.

“Prince,” Mark finishes for him, and Eduardo doesn’t smile but Dustin beams, “And this is my..Chris. He’s…”

“His boyfriend,” Chris cuts in, and Mark can tell from his voice alone that he’s annoyed about something, but right now, he’s too distracted to care.

“Well, it’s so great to meet you,” Dustin says, “I’m delighted to see that the love of my life has such wonderful friends.”

“The love of your life?” Chris echoes, and Eduardo finally breaks Mark’s gaze to look at Dustin with an unreadable expression, “You sound so sure.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Dustin asks.

“No,” Chris offers him a smile, “It’s just very romantic.”

The two of them stare each other, and Mark is suddenly aware of how they must have felt when he and Eduardo were ignoring them seconds before.

Before any of the four can say anything, a loud voice breaks the silence, cutting across the ballroom.

“Good evening, everyone. It’s our favourite time of the night: the King and Queen’s Waltz. it's that time of night. I'd like to ask each gentleman to invite a lady that he did not accompany this evening to dance.”

“This is incredibly heteronormative,” Chris mutters after the announcement is over, but Mark knows him well enough to know that he’s a little thrilled at being able to have a better dance partner for at least one song.

Dustin looks confused by the remark, but he holds out his arm to him “Shall we?”

Chris looks at Mark for a moment, but turns to Dustin with a smile and takes his arm. “We shall.”

They walk off, hand in hand, leaving Mark and Eduardo alone. Eduardo gives him a small smile, offering his own hand.

“I’m not good at dancing,” Mark reminds him, “I only came tonight because you insisted on it.”

“That’s okay,” Eduardo says, sweet and soft, and Mark wonders if he’s thinking about the day before in the park too. “I can lead.”

Mark takes his hand, allowing Eduardo to lead him into the middle of the dancefloor. Eduardo pulls him close, wrapping an arm around Mark’s upper back and keeping their hands tightly interlocked. The song that starts playing is one he’s unfamiliar with, but it’s low and soft and Eduardo seems to know all the steps. For the first time tonight, he doesn’t think about the placement of his feet or how ridiculous he must looks, just allows Eduardo to hold him and spin him around.

They stay in each other’s arms for what feels like an eternity, and Mark wishes it was. It just feels so _right_ , and he can’t think of anything or anyone else; just Eduardo’s hands in his, and his bright eyes, and the small smile playing at his lips. It feels like he’s meant to be here.

But he isn’t, Mark remembers with a jolt, when the clearing of a throat pulls him out of his trance. Eduardo steps away from him, and they both turn to see Chris and Dustin staring at them, looking slightly displeased.

“Mind if I cut in?” Chris asks, and Eduardo shakes his head.

“No, of course not,” he glances at Dustin, who takes him by the arm.

“We should probably be on our way home anyway,” Dustin smiles at them, “It was lovely meeting you all. Thanks again for keeping my beloved safe and happy.”

Mark nods numbly, watching as Dustin leads Eduardo away from him. Out of the ball, out of Mark’s life, out of this world altogether.

Eduardo doesn’t look back once.

“Mark,” Chris says, soft and tense, and Mark finally turns to look at him, “If there’s something going on, I need you to tell me.”

“There’s nothing,” Mark reassures him, and it’s not really a lie. It doesn’t matter how wonderful he finds Eduardo or how right being with him feels. Eduardo has a prince he’s going to marry, and he won’t take his happily ever after from him. There’s nothing going on because there can’t be. “I promise.”

Chris considers this for a moment, but ends up giving Mark a small smile, which he reluctantly returns. Chris is nice and rational and smart, and Mark does love him and did want to marry him. He knows he can be happy with him, and he doesn’t have the option of being happy with Eduardo.

He leans forward and kisses him, just a peck, but it seems to reassure Chris all the same.

“Come on,” he says, “Just one more dance, and then we can go.”

Mark nods and takes his hand. It suddenly feels wrong again, all too aware of his feet and how ridiculous he looks, and as pretty and talented Chris is, it doesn’t feel the way it does with Eduardo. But he can try to fake it until it does.

They’re about halfway through the song when Mark feels something hit his feet, and he frowns when he looks down at a bright red apple with a single bite mark. Chris looks just as confused as he leans down to pick it up, turning it over in his hands.

“Who throws fruit around at a ball?” Chris asks, and Mark shrugs. It feels like a warning, somehow, and Mark tells himself he’s being ridiculous. It’s an _apple._ It doesn’t mean anything.

He shakes his head, placing the apple on a nearby table at the edge of the dancefloor. Despite his best efforts to convince himself otherwise, the fruit has filled him with dread, and he suddenly wants to get away from here. “No idea. Should we go?”

Chris looks likes he wants to protest, but allows Mark to begin to lead him towards the doors. He just needs to get them both out of here, and then they can go back to focusing on their actual lives. After this, Mark can pretend the last few days didn’t happen. Pretend that Eduardo didn’t happen.

“Somebody help!”

Mark turns at the voice, and his stomach drops once he realises it’s Dustin. Eduardo is in his arms, looking pale and lifeless, and Mark starts running without a second though, dimly aware of Chris saying he’ll call 911 behind him.

“What happened?” he demands when he gets to the top of the stairs. By now, a couch has been pulled over and Eduardo is lying on top of it, Dustin standing over him with concern. He looks almost peaceful, almost like he’s sleeping, but Mark knows that isn’t the case.

“It’s nothing, he just fainted,” says a dark-haired man that Mark has never seen before. He’s dressed in a deep blue and black gown and a silver crown, looking like he stepped straight out of a fairytale. Mark frowns at him, but looks back down at Eduardo, pushing a stray hair off of his forehead.

“There’s no need for all this fuss,” the man continues, “He’ll be fine, he just needs some fresh air.” 

“You’re lying.”

“ _Tyler_ ?” Dustin asks, and Mark glances up again at his reaction to the new voice, and if he wasn’t currently worried about Eduardo, he would have laughed. _Of course_ the apple stand salesman slash creepy waiter is involved in all of this. He’s dressed in an white blouse and brown tights now, a step down from Dustin and the other man’s theatrical looks but certainly not normal attire, looking like a peasant from a history book or a side character from a fairytale. Mark half expects someone to fly in with wings, to complete the ridiculous looking group.

“He did this,” Tyler says, ignoring Dustin and pointing a finger at the dark-haired man. “He poisoned her. He asked for my help, and I shouldn’t have done it, but-”

“Why, you’re such a gentleman for admitting it now,” he sneers, “Or you would be if it was true.”

He moves away from Tyler and begins walking towards Dustin, who is looking completely perplexed by the whole situation.

“Son,” he begins, “You can’t seriously believe-”

“I can and I will,” Dustin interrupts, “When we get home, everyone in Kirklandia will know what you’ve done!”

The man who did this to Eduardo - the Evil King, he supposes, Dustin’s stepfather - narrows his eyes at Dustin. “You’re going to take my crown? Over some idiot’s baseless accusation?”

“I’ve heard enough,” Dustin says, finally sounding like the brave and heroic prince that Eduardo claimed he was, “From both him and the chipmunk. You _will_ be removed from the throne, Divya, I’ll see to it. I’ll make sure that you’re punished accordingly too, Tyler, regardless of your intentions now.”

Tyler seems confused - clearly, he thought his turn to their side at the last minute would protect him - and Divya’s eyes flash, but Dustin turns away from them to crouch next to Mark in front of Eduardo’s body. He’s still not breathing or moving, and Mark can feel tears pricking his eyes. He’s vaguely aware of some commotion going on with Divya and Tyler, but he doesn’t care about them. He only cares about Eduardo.

“We have to help him,” he tells Dustin, “There has to be something we can do.”

“There’s nothing,” Tyler says, and Mark looks up to see that he’s now got Dustin’s sword pressed against Divya’s throat, and he bitterly notes that this would have been avoided if he’d decided to betray the King earlier, “He’s done for.”

_No_ , Mark thinks, _he can’t be._

There has to be _something._ He can’t lose Eduardo. There needs to be _something._ He can’t lose Eduardo. It’s not possible that all of Eduardo’s talk about princes and fairytales turned out to be true, but there isn’t anything from their world powerful enough to--

“True love’s kiss,” he says, and Dustin turns to him in confusion, “It’s the most powerful thing in the world.”

Mark’s only half certain when he first says it, but Divya’s smirk falls from his face at the mention of it, and Mark knows he’s right.

“Right, of course,” Dustin says quickly, clearing his throat, “I was getting to that.”

He nudges Mark a little and Mark jolts away, moving to the side so Dustin has better access to Eduardo’s lips. He sits at the head of the couch, staying as close as he can. Mark might not be his true love, but Eduardo still means the world to him.

Mark watches as Dustin leans forward, pressing his lips to Eduardo’s for several seconds before pulling away. He holds his breath, looking for any sign of life in Eduardo. He needs him to be okay. He needs Dustin to be able to save him.

But Eduardo remains still and lifeless.

Dustin frowns, and kisses Eduardo several more times, to no avail. Mark lets out an involuntary little gasp, and he doesn’t want to cry, but there’s an ache in his chest and the tears are fighting to come out.

Divya lets out a laugh, and Mark looks up just in time to see Tyler’s grip on the sword falters a little.

“The most powerful thing in the world, huh?” Divya smirks, “So much for that. As soon as the clock strikes midnight, he’ll be dead.”

_But Dustin was meant to save him. True love’s kiss was meant to save him,_ Mark thinks.

“It has to work,” he tells Dustin, and he can hear the crack in his own voice, “It needs to work. You’re his true love.”

Dustin frowns, looking down at Eduardo with wet eyes, “I don’t know why it’s not working. You’re right, it should. Unless…”

Mark resists the urge to shake him, because the clock is still counting down and he needs to save Eduardo _now._

But Dustin doesn’t finish what he’s saying, and it’s Chris that breaks the silence.

“Mark,” he says, and Mark turns to meet his eyes. He looks so sad, but there’s an acceptance in there too. “I think it’s you.”

Mark starts shaking his head before Chris has finished speaking, because that’s impossible. He’s not Eduardo’s true love, and he can’t let himself believe it and lose Eduardo in the process. Maybe he’d delude himself if he was okay and awake and breathing, but not now. Not when Eduardo’s life depends on his true love.

“It’s not me,” he argues, and he tries to convince himself his rapid heartbeat is because he’s scared for Eduardo, and nothing else. “That’s not possible.”

“No, the handsome man is right,” Dustin says, getting to his feet and stepping aside so Mark can reach Eduardo, “Don’t you see? It _has_ to be you.”

Mark stares at them - Dustin and Chris and Divya and Tyler - and then up at the clock, and he’s only got one minute until midnight.

If it’s not true, he’s going to lose Eduardo. But if it is true, then Mark’s the only one who can save him. And he knows he needs to at least try. He looks back down at Eduardo, beautiful even now, and tries to blink away the tears in his eyes.

“Wardo, please,” he says, so quiet that only Eduardo would hear him if he wasn’t passed out, “I need you.”

He leans forward and presses a soft kiss to Eduardo’s lips just as the clock strikes midnight, the sound echoing around the ballroom before it goes deadly silent. Mark pulls away, looking down at Eduardo’s face. His eyes are still closed and he’s still not breathing, and the pain Mark feels in his chest hurts so much more than it did when Erica left. There’s nothing to suggest that he was right, and Eduardo is still here. The room remains silent as Mark watches him, waiting for anything, but seconds pass and it feels like an eternity because Eduardo still isn’t breathing.

And then—

Eduardo gasps, and his eyes flutter open, and he falls forward into Mark’s arms, and he’s _alive._ He looks up at Mark in awe as he pieces together the situation, and Mark decides in that moment that he’s never letting him go.

“I wanted it to be you,” Eduardo whispers, smiling softly at him.

And then he reaches up and kisses him. Properly this time, reaching up to put his hand on the back of Mark’s neck and pull him closer. Mark is dimly aware that people are clapping and cheering around them, but he doesn’t care about anyone else. Eduardo’s alive, and he’s his true love, and that’s all that matters.

Eduardo pulls away only to draw Mark into a hug, and Mark’s barely had a chance to wrap his arms around him when there’s a yell.

_Right,_ he thinks, reluctantly lifting his head from Eduardo’s shoulder, _The Evil King._

They stumble off the couch and Mark shoves Eduardo behind him, not wanting him to be put so close to danger again. He feels Eduardo’s arm snaking around his waist as they step backwards away from Divya.

“I don’t think so,” Divya snaps, shoving Tyler away and yanking the sword out of his hand. He points it at all of them, slowly making his way down the staircase.

“You’re all so nauseating,” he hisses, and the remaining people on the dancefloor scatter to the side, watching in horror as Divya twists the sword at them. “All this talk of _true love’s kiss_ and _happily ever after_. It’s disgusting. But if the people want a show, I’ll give them a show.”

He stabs the sword into the floor below him, and the area around Divya erupts into green smoke and flame. Mark can feel Eduardo’s breath, hot against his neck, and he fumbles to grasp his hand.

When the smoke dissipates, a twenty foot dragon stands in the place where Divya had been moments before, blue and black scales flashing in the dim light. It moves forward, it’s clawed feet shattering the wood of the ballroom, and when it speaks, Divya’s voices comes out.

“You know, we could have avoided all of this if Eduardo had the sense to mind his own business. But no, he wanted to take my throne, and so I had to get rid of him. Sending him here wasn’t enough, not when my idiotic stepson and that rodent decided to try and save him. I knew I needed to be a little more drastic. And so, I wanted _him_ dead,” he snarls, and anger flares up in Mark with the knowledge that the _him_ in question is Eduardo. “But all of you just had to interfere, didn’t you? So now I have no choice but to deal with _all_ of you. It’ll make quite the tragic story when I get back to Kirklandia. The monster that killed everyone, and the poor, defenseless king, that couldn’t save them.”

Mark looks over at Dustin and Tyler briefly, hoping they have some kind of game plan given that they have _some_ experience fighting magical creatures. But they look just as terrified as Mark, and he feels Eduardo’s grip on him tighten.

“But let’s finish off _darling_ Eduardo first, shall we? He’s the reason we’re all in this mess.”

Divya reaches forward to grab him, and Mark pushes Eduardo behind him, just out of his grasp.

“Over my dead body,” he spits. He’s already hurt Eduardo once tonight, and Mark isn’t going to let anything happen to him again, even if that means challenging a dragon.

“Well, if you insist,” Divya says, and Mark feels himself being lifted into the air, being pulled away from Eduardo within seconds. He can hear Divya taunting Eduardo about him, but can’t make out the words, and just hopes that he stays here, away from any harm or danger.

Divya pulls him outside - of course there’s a fucking thunderstorm going on - and begins to scale the building, Mark clutched between his claws. The streets below getting further and further away the higher Divya climbs, and Mark lets out a yell when it dawns on him that he’s being brought up here to be dropped from the top.

“I can’t wait to watch you fall,” Divya says, and even now, Mark can hear the smirk in his voice, and it’s infuriating.

“No shit,” he snaps in response, because he’s already provoked Divya into wanting to kill him, and he’s not about to waste his breath by begging for his life. If he can be an asshole to  _anyone,_ surely he can be an asshole to the dragon that wants him dead.

Divya doesn’t say anything, just climbs higher, only to let out a roar a few moments later.

“ _YOU_!” he roars, looking down past Mark, and Mark follows his eyesight to see Eduardo on one of the ledges, barefoot and clutching Dustin’s sword in his hands. There’s a deep red gash on Divya’s tail, and even though he wants Eduardo well away from all of this, Mark can’t deny the little thrill that rises up in him at a handsome man coming to his rescue.

If he lives, he’s going to have a great story to tell Amy.

“Let him go!” Eduardo calls out, but then he’s further away, as Divya pulls them up to the top of the building. He wraps his spare claw around the top spire, twisting his tail around it as Mark tries to find Eduardo through the storm.

“Come to see the finale, have you?” Divya taunts, just as Mark sees a blurred figure pull themselves up onto one of the juts in the building, “I know you love a happy ending, and I just know that that’s how this story is going to end.”

He uncurls his tail to slam it against the side of the building, and the entire thing seems to creak. ““For me, anyway.”

Eduardo’s gone silent, and Mark is beginning to think that he’s seconds away from being thrown to his death, when he spits something out of the corner of his eye. Mark can’t see much in the rain or from this angle but he manages to make out a flash of something brown and furry as it passes by his direct line of sight.

“Sean,” he whispers to himself, thinking of the chipmunk and the hundreds of stories Eduardo claimed to have about him. He hopes he’s half the hero Eduardo claimed he was, because he’s desperate enough to put all his faith in a rodent.

Not a minute after Sean passed by his face, the spire begins to bend.

Divya lets out a roar, throwing Mark into the air to grab desperately at the falling spire with both his claws. Mark’s relief about being free from his grasp is quickly overwhelmed by his fear of falling towards the streets below. He lets out a yell, throwing his arms out for something to hold onto, just missing the edge of the spire. He closes his eyes, expecting to hit the pavement within seconds, and hears a whizzing noise.

When the drop doesn’t come, however, he opens them again, and turns his head to see Dustin’s sword has pinned the sleeve of his shirt to the spire. He looks down to see Eduardo standing below him, soaked through to the skin and hair plastered to his face, offering Mark a tentative smile.

Mark goes to return it despite his fears when he hears a scream to his left, and turns his head to see Divya, just as he loses his grip on the spire and falls through the night. Mark watches as the dragon turns to flames, disintegrating into dark blue glitter just before it hits the streets below.

He’s barely had time to dwell on the death though, when he feels his body lurch. He looks up to see that the sword, while holding him in place, is starting to tear trough the fabric of his sleeve. He reaches up to grab at the spire for extra stability but misses, and Mark is left to consider his mortality for the second time tonight.

“Mark!” He can hear Eduardo yelling, though he doesn’t feel safe enough to look down at him, “Hold on!”

Eduardo’s only just gotten the last word out when the material of his shirt rips in half, and Mark finds himself plunging towards the ground once again, but Eduardo reaches out for him this time.

Eduardo catches him, but the rain and the tiles are working against them, because he slips on the roof and they both stumble on top of it, before sliding down. Mark pulls Eduardo closer to him, bracing himself to go sliding off the roof to his death _right_ after he escaped it at the hands of a dragon and a broken spire, but they slam into the gutter instead.

Scratch that, he’s going to have a _fucking brilliant_ story to tell Amy.

They’re silent for a few seconds, staring down at the street below them. Mark can make out flashing red and white and blue lights, surrounding the pile of magic, glittering dust on the wet road. _The mundane and the magical_ , he thinks, turning to Eduardo _._

Eduardo is already looking at him with wonder, and Mark lets out a little laugh before drawing him into a deep kiss. Eduardo presses back eagerly, tangling his fingers into Mark’s wet curls, and only pulling away after several minutes, though he doesn’t loosen his grip.

“You know what this means?” he asks, resting his forehead against Mark’s.

“What?”

“I _was_ right about happily ever after existing,” he grins, and Mark can’t help but return it.

“I suppose I can admit defeat this once,” he admits, and Eduardo laughs, loud and bright and _happy_ , and Mark has no choice but to pull him in for another kiss. Not just any kiss, it turns out. _True love’s kiss_.

**bonus bit to reassure you that everyone gets a happy ending**

Chris has always liked to consider himself an accepting, reasonable person. Eduardo’s nonsense about being from a magical land and engaged to a prince being true? Dustin’s stepfather and the king of aforementioned land being a murderous dragon? _Mark_ being Eduardo’s true love?  

He supposes he can accept all of it. It doesn’t mean he’s _happy_ with all of it.

He’s sitting on the ruined floor of the ballroom after everything. It’s empty now, everyone having run for safety after Divya took Mark, or they were currently being rescued from the rooftop where they had dealt with him. And it’s not that Chris is mad at Mark or Eduardo for finding each other, because he wants them to be happy and he can’t really argue with _true love’s kiss_ , he just hates that it means he’s all alone.

“Can I ask why such a handsome man looks so upset?” A voice asks, and Chris looks up to see Dustin (the Prince? Eduardo’s former fiancé?) crouching in front of him. He doesn’t seem particularly upset by the revelation his predecessor is a (now deceased) dragon, or the fact his “true love” turned out to belong to somebody else. He’s smiling at Chris like he’s the bigger priority right now, the kind of smile that Mark never even gave him.

“He left his shoe,” Chris says, because he doesn’t know how to explain everything he’s feeling right now. There’s no guidebook for How To Deal When Your Fiancé Leaves You For His True Love (An Almost Prince From Another World, That Leaves His Slipper Behind Because Of Course He Does.) “Figures.”

If Eduardo hadn’t been so kind and honest and likeable, Chris probably would have hated him more for being such a fairytale stereotype than he would have for stealing his boyfriend.

Dustin glances at the shoe, picking it up, before looking back up at Chris.

He’s still smiling, and Chris, now a free man, can’t help but notice that his smile is much nicer than Mark’s rare ones.

“May I?”

He holds the shoe out in front of him, and a few hours ago, Chris would have laughed in his face. But now that he’s seen a dragon and the proof of true love’s kiss, he’s willing to try on a slipper, if only to amuse himself somewhat.

He puts his foot out in front of him, and Dustin eases the slipper on gently. The shoe is nothing special, really, not even something Chris would have worn by choice, but something about it feels... _warm._

Dustin meets his eyes, “It’s a perfect fit.”

Chris stares at him, unable to stop the smile that’s creeping on his face, despite how ridiculous this entire situation is.

“You know,” Dustin continues, “I’m king now. And since my fiancé didn’t turn out to be my true love-”

“You think it’s me?” Chris asks, and it’s a ridiculous prospect. Chris considers himself a reasonable person. He likes the truths, and facts, and reality, and getting to know someone before he decides to marry them and become co-rulers of a magical land. But the idea appeals to him with each extra second in Dustin’s presence.

“I mean,” Dustin shrugs, “If the shoe fits.”

Chris lets out a laugh, and watches as Dustin gets to his feet. From this angle, Chris can see that the light brings out a reddish tint to his hair. He likes it.

It _is_ a ridiculous prospect. He’s had two conversations with Dustin, and the man was deeply in love with Eduardo hours before. But there’s something intriguing about him, something that makes Chris think that maybe Dustin is more right for him than Mark ever was. Maybe there was another reason that Dustin was brought here, something that fate and destiny had a hand in.

If Mark could fall madly in love with someone right after meeting them, why couldn’t Chris?

Dustin holds out his hand for Chris.

Chris takes it.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> well, hello there.  
> i truly never expected to write fic again, let alone for the facebook movie, but here we are. the first thing i've posted on this site in about four years, for a fandom that's been irrelevant for about eight. relevance has never appealed to me, but fincher movies and mid-2000s disney films do.  
> this started because of a vague comment i made about a week ago, in which i said "markwardo enchanted (the movie) au, no i will not elaborate," only to elaborate with about eighteen thousand words. you can blame rey and eve for this, as they are the ones that wanted to hear more.  
> this fic is partially dedicated to them, and otherwise dedicated to everyone else who will listen to me talk about tsn in 2019. thanks for keeping the dream alive!  
> completely unbeta'd and written in the space of about 72 hours, so any and all mistakes are my own.  
> title is from taylor swift's enchanted, because of course i was going to use that opportunity.  
> kudos and comments are appreciated, and watch this space, because i might have more in the works.  
> xx ladystark


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